


In Winters Light

by Moosen



Series: Winterwidow Drabbles [3]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosen/pseuds/Moosen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A winter themed buckynat drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Winters Light

"Do you ever get cold?" he muses as he watches her, eyes bright as she walks just a step ahead of him. Her laugh is musical as she turns around, steps not missing a beat as she starts going backwards. There's a spark in her blue eyes, and god, he could just get lost in them.

"Cold? Me? James, I'm offended," there's a tease to her words and a smile quirky at her lips. He can't help the way his own lips curve into a smile and the way his laugh escapes him. It's cold enough that he can see his breath as it puffs out in front of him.

"Ah my apologies. I forgot, Russians never get cold," his voice matches her tone with a tease as he steps forward a bit quickly to match her pace. Something flashes through her eyes as her smile grows just so. Something mischievous but he can't quite place it yet. Her gloved hands slip from her coat, reaching out to wind in his plush scarf.

"You're one to speak, _Winter_ Soldier," he can't help the laugh he barks out. His brows raise as her hands turn, winding his scarf more around them and drawing them closer. "But then again, you are _American_." The word leaves her mouth with such an accent, a taunt. "You could never handle the Russian winters."

"Never handle them? I've battled them and survived. I think I can handle them," there's a chuckle to his words as he leans in with her grip.

"Not like a true Russian."

"Oh? And how exactly, would a true Russian face the winter?" His tone is full of amusement and his eyes are bright as his gaze meets hers. That spark is still there. One hand slips free of the scarf with no issue, moving down to his coat and the buttons keeping it shut. A soft hum fills the air as she fingers the top button for just a moment before beginning to unbutton him, stopping her steps so they're still.

"For one thing, a true Russian would never be caught in such a tacky coat--"

"--Tacky? Excuse me, but _you_ picked this out." Natasha hums out a laugh, smile growing again as she nimbly undoes the buttons. No time is wasted before her hand is at his shoulder, pushing the jacket back. Bucky doesn't fight it, just removes his hands from his pockets so it can fall to the ground. It hits the ground with a soft sound. He doesn't care. There's no need to, the snow won't damage it and he's far more interested in what she wants to show him.

"Nor," she continues without missing a beat. "Would a true Russian wear a hat like this." The next instant his hats on the ground as an amused leaves him.

"What about the scarf?"

"The scarf?" she echoes softly.

"Yeah, the scarf."

A hum leaves her, head tilting as if she's contemplating. Her grip on his scarf tightens as her eyes flash once more. He doesn't have a second to ask before she's tugging him forward and her lips are meeting his. They're soft against his and he practically melts into the kiss as his eyes slide shut. His bionic hand comes to rest on her waist as his other comes to tangle in her red locks. A sigh escapes him as he presses closer to her. Her free hand comes to cover his thats in her hair, pulling it away gently to hold it.

It only lasts a moment before she pulls back, just so that her lips are hovering before his and god all he wants to do is press forward. Claim her in another kiss. He doesn't, he holds himself back and waits for whatever words she has for him.

None come as her hand leaves his in a flash, palm hitting his shoulder hard and a yelp escapes him as his eyes snap open. There's no time to save face, he's falling back into the snow bank hard enough to sink right through it. He can already feel the snow seeping into his turtleneck as he stares at her, that amused and mischievous look on her face.

When he moves to push himself up, to get out of the snow before he's completely soaked, his hand just sinks into the bank once more from his weight. Natasha's laugh rings out like bells as she watches his struggle.

"-- _Nat it's cold_ ," he whines at her, extending his hand to ask for help.

"James. If you were a true Russian, you would already be up again." With those words she turns and starts down the sidewalk once more, leaving him gaping after her.

Still, no matter how cold he is he can't wipe the stupid, dopey smile plastered on his face off. God he loves her.


End file.
